This idea was stuck in my head for days, and I had to get it down. If you closely read the last few pages of Mockingjay, you'll know that this made-up pairing can't be anything but May/December. Don't be offended, I just couldn't help myself.
So, what do you think? Is it enough to be the prologue of a story? Or should I just keep it as a one-shot? I'm leaning toward the "one-shot" side.
I'd really like to hear your thoughts... XD

Crazy.

We call each other by our last names; he calls me Mellark, I call him Odair. The unspoken years between us never stand as a barrier, we disregard the fact that I'm fourteen years too young for him and he's fourteen years too old for me. Fourteen years is a big age difference, but we gladly throw them away to spend some time together as two… humans. Not a fifteen year old girl and a twenty-nine year old man. Two lovers in a sweet embrace.

"I hate archery," I say, dropping to the ground. The grass tickles my bare feet as a cool breeze whips by, causing my makeshift dress—which is really just a long shirt from my father's wardrobe—to hike up slightly. It doesn't go unnoticed by Odair.

"Your mother's famous for her skills with a bow and arrow," He says, openly admiring the view my dress is giving him. I love dresses, even if the ones I own are just long shirts because my mother 'refuses to let her only daughter wear such horrid things'. Her words are definitely hypocritical, because many of the videos I've seen of her have her in beautiful, girly dresses.

"Yeah, well, I'm a flawed copy of my mother," I tell him. "I have a lot of my father's personality."

"I know." He picks up my untouched bow. With a zing and a pop, his arrow slams directly into the target we painted onto a distant tree. He's so good at everything. "Mellark, get up. Let's keep trying."

"Easy for you to say," I grumble, glaring at him. He's the best mentor around. He's mine.

Odair puts his hand over mine, then guides it to the proper position. We stretch the arrow back together, his fingers on mine, his scent so strong and his body so close—

I fling the bow away, and the arrow shoots up into the sky. It slices into an unsuspecting bird, killing it immediately. I watch as it sails to the ground, then turn around and tackle Odair. He laughs as I fall onto him, attacking him with kisses.

I pull back and grin at him breathlessly. "I think I just killed a mockingjay," I say.

"Ironic." His lips curve into a smile. His eyes, sea green and beautiful, meet mine. They hold a certain something that seems out of the ordinary, not right but not wrong, something strange. It's evident to anyone who looks him in the eye, and I find it extremely attractive.

It's his crazy.

Everyone knows that Annie Odair has a slightly dysfunctional mind. Some call her crazy, and claim that her crazy was passed down to her almost perfect son. I cannot believe what little respect Annie receives, after all she's been through. It's disgusting the way a few of the locals treat her, and my parents agree. They're constantly trying to fight them off.

I love Odair's crazy.

"Odair," I say simply, looking at him. I realize I'm on top of him, my knees on either side of his waist, and I smirk.

"Mellark," he says back.

I grab his hair and pull his head up and lean forward and kiss him again, a dizzying rush of happiness tingling through me. His lips taste like love and sea salt and the sweet pastries my father makes at home. He tastes like Odair.

I can't survive without him, and we both know it.

Review?